The Question and the Answer
by Quidnunk
Summary: Harry's in love with a Muggle and must reveal his true identity.


Authors note: This is what happens when one winds up with a sprained ankle on what should have been a glorious day off from school, I hope you enjoy. This is the first fan fiction I've ever written. I would really appreciate some feedback. Even flames are okay, I can take a little criticism. Disclaimer: Naturally Harry Potter, Hermione, Neville, and Snape all belong to J.K. Rowling. Everything else belongs to me. 

Part I: waiting For Morning 

Harry Potter was what anyone would consider a happy man. He had a good job that he liked, he was well respected by his colleagues, and well liked by his friends. He was also living with a woman that he was very much in love with, and in the morning he intended to propose to her. He was also a wizard, and that messed the whole perfect thing up. 

Harry was laying in bed, not really trying to fall asleep, but hoping that it would overtake him. But his mind was in such turmoil that sleep really didn't have a chance. He had been laying there waiting for sleep for the past four hours, and on any other night like this he would have gotten up to do some of the mountain of paperwork that was always waiting for him. As head of the Hit Wizards, who were the magical version of law enforcement, he had a lot of responsibility, but he never minded because it was interesting work. Everything but the paperwork, which he let accumulate and then bulldozed through on sleepless nights. He had himself figured to be the only man in all of England who actually enjoyed having insomnia. But tonight was different. He couldn't even bring himself to get out of bed, the bed he shared with her. It was the last night of his torment. But he knew that in the morning that he might loose the love of his life forever. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but it could not be a life tainted with untold secrets. 

Waiting patiently in the kitchen there was a tray. It held not only a delicious breakfast for two, but a ring, and Harry's wand. He had the game plan set in his mind. First he would present her with the ring, but before he allowed her to say yes (which he was sure she would under the current circumstances), he would tell her that he was a wizard. If they got to the deviled eggs and tiramisu then his life would be perfect. If not.... Well he didn't even want to contemplate the if not. If not he would give her a memory charm to forget what he had just revealed, and break up with her. He just hoped he had the strength for the if not. 

As Harry lay there he thought about how this might be the last night he ever got to watch her sleep. He studied the rise and fall of her chest, the sound of her clear even breathing. Last winter she had come down with bronchitis he would never forget how that hacking cough, and that foreign rattle in her chest pained him. Ever since then he had always stayed up later than her, just so he could listen to her breathe. To Harry it was the sweetest music in the world. He couldn't bear to think about nights when he wouldn't get to hear that music. 

He remembered the first day he ever saw her. He was a King's Cross Station, planing to go visit Hermione and Hogwarts for Christmas. He had been in such a hurry to his train, that he practically ran her over. That was how they met. The first thing Harry noticed about her was he laugh. A rich creamy alto laugh with the clarity of a bell. She laughed when he knocked her over. As soon as he had gained enough composure to pick himself up off the ground he took her for a cup of coffee to apologize. They talked in that coffee shop for hours. Harry completely forgot about his train and wound up having to fly all the way to Hogwarts with the temperature in the negative numbers. 

Harry laughed gently, remembering that trip. Had it really happened five years ago. Love had hit him like a two ton truck, and although he nearly froze to death she was all he thought about the entire ride. She was all he could think about now. He decided that there were worse ways of spending what could be his last night with her watching her sleep. 

That was how dawn found him, watching her breathing, and the breeze from the open window ruffling her hair. The day would become hot and humid lather, but in the early morning it was still cool. The air felt like a damp sponge, gently brushing his skin The sky was colorless, an almost blinding shade of gray that made the entire sky seem like an extension of the crisp white walls in the bedroom. It was to Harry's great surprise that he realized it was time to get up. Harry woke up at six every morning because he had found that it was easier to get up at the same time every day by habit, then to struggle with waking up during the week then sleep in 'till noon on the weekend. So on Sundays he made breakfast. He enjoyed muggle cooking, and spared no pains in preparing delicious luxurious foods that required hundreds of ingredients. In a way, cooking sort of reminded him of preparing a potion, of course the dishes he prepared in his kitchen were tasted a lot better than anything he ever made in Snape's class. But potions belonged to Hermione now, he remembered. Snape had been canned after becoming enraged and forcing Neville to drink his own faulty shrinking solution. The potion had worked better than expected, but due to some fault of it's maker, it was unable to be reversed. Neville had remained two feet tall ever since, and Hermione had taken over the potions class. 

It was this part of his life that Harry so wanted to share with her. He was sick of never being able to tell old school stories, and not talking about what he did at work, and having to say that Neville has some kind of strange genetic disease. With new resolve he got out of bed and went to go get the breakfast tray. What ever happened would happen, but hopefully it would all turn out for the best. 

Part II: The Reply 

From the doorway Harry could see June sleeping in the bed. She looked so innocent. She trusted him so much. He had always felt criminal not telling her the whole truth, but other than his one little omission he never lied to her. Harry walked into the bedroom and put the tray down on the bed. Then he lay back down and kissed her gently on the lips. 

"Good morning", he murmured. 

"Mmm", she replied sleepily. "I was getting hungry, it's a good thing you finally showed up." 

Harry became all seriousness. "Before we eat I have to talk to you. It's really important." At this point June finally woke up. She sat up and looked him straight in the face with her large golden eyes. 

"Is something wrong?" She asked, with worry creeping in to her voice 

"Something's wrong, but something is also very right. We are right. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." "I do to." She replied without missing a beat, sounding as sure as if she had just agreed to having eggs for breakfast "Are you asking me to marry you?" 

"Yes, but there's something you have to know first." It was the last second before she would know the truth, it hung heavy in the air, crackling with apprehension. "I'm a wizard." Her reaction was not what he had expected. She looked at Harry, and gave him a slightly quizzical look. Then she grinned. 

"You know darling, that's not terribly romantic. A wizard? It sounds like you want to make love to me, then turn me into a toad." 

"No, you don't understand, I'm serious. Please, don't say a word, just hear me out and promise to believe me. I wish I could go on forever keeping it a secret, but that just wouldn't be fair, I love you to much. I've always hated having to lie to you, I want you to know the whole me. Not that the whole me is any different from the part of me that you already know... Not that you only know a part of me...I mean, you know the majority of me...I'm still the same person." As Harry made this awkward speech he reach over to the breakfast tray and took hold of his wand. He could see June looking at him in disbelief, he needed to show her that he was telling the truth. He levitated the ring out of her hand. The disbelief on her face changed to plain astonishment, and underneath that, hurt. Little tears trickled from the corners of her eyes as she watched the ring hover in front of her face. She seemed to turn to stone, then finally she spoke. 

"You lied to me for five years Harry." She spoke in a low controlled voice, as if each work was tearing her throat apart just to speak. 

"I didn't want you to leave me." He replied. 

"Is that why we never go to your friends houses, is that why I've never met your parents, is that why you never talk about what you do at the office." 

"Yes." 

"Harry, I think we're out of cream for the coffee. Could you go get some at the store down the street." Their eyes met, each ripped apart by anguish. Harry understood, she didn't want him to see her pack. Harry turned quickly and walked out of the bedroom, out of the apartment, out of the building, and kept walking. 


End file.
